


Loneliness

by niania



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen, Pre-Canon, Weechesters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-30
Updated: 2012-06-30
Packaged: 2017-11-08 21:58:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 650
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/447986
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/niania/pseuds/niania
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A night shortly after Mary's death: John isn't able to cope with the loss but at the same time he has a baby and a four-year-old boy hunted by nightmares to take care of.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Loneliness

John was pacing up and down the room, endlessly back and forth, always the same route. Starting at the entrance door, to the bed, passing by the window, around the corner of the second bed, to the bathroom door. And back ... again and again. It had to be about 2am, but he had lost track of time long ago. It didn‘t matter. He hadn‘t slept for two days and had forcefully suppressed every thought and emotion. Instead, his attention was on his two sons. Dean was sleeping on the left bed. He was lying on his side and moved restlessly in his sleep, undoubtedly haunted by bad dreams. Now and again he seemed to grab with his hands for something or someone to hold on to. To John he seemed to be so much smaller than usual as he lay there almost disappearing in the big motel bed.

Sam had been lying in his arms for hours now. He would have liked to put him in the borrowed travel cot but Sammy wasn‘t allowing it, whining and refusing to fall asleep. In John's arms he at least stuck to chewing on his fingers unhappily. So John pressed him tightly to his chest and kept on pacing up and down the motel room from one corner to the other, like a caged tiger. At some point despair, sadness and anger would crush down on him but so far his body was desperately keeping up the protective walls around his soul. Putting one foot in front of the other that was all he was capable of at the moment.

John had just arrived back at the entrance door when Dean started screaming and crying in his sleep. It wasn‘t the first time. John had torn him out of nightmares every few hours for the last two nights. Previously he had just shaken his shoulder until Dean opened his eyes. He probably should have told him that everything was fine, that he was safe. But he couldn‘t bring himself to say it out loud. The lie seemed too big, even if it was to console his four-year old son who was racked by nightmares. So he had remained silent, sitting next to him with his big hand on his son‘s small shoulder until Dean had gone back to his fidgety sleep. Asked in the morning, Dean couldn‘t remember anything. John preferred it this way. He wasn‘t ready to deal with the pictures undoubtedly hunting Dean in his sleep again and again.

Now John lay Sam down on the bed and leaned towards his older son. He grabbed his shoulder, shaking him gently to wake him up. Dean's cheek was wet with tears and it took John a few moments to raise him from his sleep. Dean‘s glance fell on Sam lying beside him, complaining about the lack of attention and angrily waving his little fists through the air. Dean put his arm over Sam's belly and pulled him close. "I'm here, Sammy" he murmured, closed his eyes and fell asleep again, his head squeezed between his brother's head and shoulder.

John stood by the bed, eternally grateful that someone took away at least part of the bone-crushing weight that had been completely enclosing him. He sank down into the chair in the dark corner behind him. An illuminated advertising sign in front of the motel bathed the bed with his two sons in a strangely foreign kind of twilight. Sam quietly looked around with his big eyes and began to play with Dean‘s pajama sleeve while Dean, wrapped around his much smaller brother and his arm protectively draped across Sam‘s belly, slept soundly for the first time since the fire. John kept his gaze on his children for a few minutes until he was finally able to let go. He allowed himself to close his eyes and to fell into a dreamless sleep.


End file.
